


Side Story: Table Manners

by Gote_Herder



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Slapstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gote_Herder/pseuds/Gote_Herder
Summary: It seems to Asriel that every aspect of royal life has some sort of nonsensical rule or custom attached to it. Much to his chagrin, this includes eating.Learning all the little ins and outs would be bad enough on its own, but Chara is awfully enthusiastic to help their mother dispense corporal punishment for Asriel's every misstep...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Side Story: Table Manners

**Author's Note:**

> Asriel and his siblings are somewhere in their mid-teens. Takes place in the same universe as "What's Past is Prologue" and related works.

Asriel sat at a long, oaken table draped with a rich purple cloth. In front of him was a lavish spread of food; a creamy soup with oysters and various other seafood, a salad composed of all his favorite vegetables and drizzled with the finest dressing the underground could make, a meatloaf lathered in savory sauce with mashed potatoes on the side, and a chocolate butterscotch pie. The gold chandelier above the table cast a dazzling light across the room’s marble walls that reflected off the silverware. 

Yet, despite all this, Asriel wished he was anywhere but here. He took a deep breath and reached for his smaller spoon, only to hear a stern “tsk” from across the table. Looking up from his food, Asriel saw his mother glaring at him from across the table. On her left was Frisk, whose wince of sympathy was the only warning he got before a blunt, padded object collided with the back of his head.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, twisting his head to look at Chara. 

His older sister sat beside him with a cushioned wiffle bat in one hand. 

“Do you  _ really _ have to do that?” Asked Asriel while massaging the back of his head with one paw. 

“Hey, it was this or mom was gonna tie strings to your horns and pull them down whenever you messed up. Why’d you reach for the smaller spoon anyway?”

“Because I just wanted to pick out some of the crab! I’ve never had it before!”

Toriel tut-tutted. “A prince does not ‘pick’ at their food. Not even their soup. To take proper bites you must use the proper spoon. Isn’t that right, Gori?”

Asgore, sitting at Toriel’s right, took a loud sip of his tea. “Oh, erm… y-yes, Tori! Quite right.”

“See, Asriel? Now use the proper spoon.”

Asriel stifled a groan and picked up his larger spoon. He kept an anxious eye on Chara as he went to take a spoonful of his soup, watching for the slightest movement of her bat-hand. No bonk was forthcoming, and the prince brought the spoon in and out of the bowl without incident.

He brought the spoon close to his maw and darted his tongue out to lap it up… only to be thwacked on the head once again and drop the spoon into his salad.

“Your tongue ought not to come more than an inch out of your mouth at the table.” Explained Toriel. “Now retrieve your spoon.”

Asriel slumped forward and reached for his salad. Why did eating have to be so difficult? He’d have to go get a burger or something with Frisk after this ordeal was over.

_ *Thwack* _

Asriel bleated as the bat struck again, this time at his back. “What is it this time!?” He asked Chara. 

“You were slouching, and about to touch your salad with your paws. Use your fork to get the spoon out. Your  _ salad _ fork, mind you.”

Rats. He didn't remember which one that was. His eyes flitted between his three forks, trying to figure out what choice would spare him Chara’s instrument of discipline again. In desperation, he looked over at Frisk and noticed her pointing ever so subtly at his medium-sized fork. 

A triumphant grin graced his muzzle, and he heard Chara grumble as he picked up his salad fork and retrieved his spoon from the leafy greens. He placed the errant piece of silverware back in its place and went to spear a bite of vegetables. Just moments before his fork touched the food, his mother tsk’d at him and the bat smacked the back of his head again. 

“What nowww….?” He groaned, barely stopping himself from slouching again. 

“My child,” Said Toriel. “You are not holding your fork properly. Use only two fingers, if you please.”

Asriel adjusted his grip on the fork and took a very grumpy bite of his salad. It tasted good, but the rigamarole he had to go through drained any enjoyment from the food.

“Why do I have to do this, anyway?” He asked. “It’s not like anyone except our family knows these silly rules.”

His mother huffed indignantly. “They are most certainly not “silly.” These are traditions, ones which human royalty and nobility use as well.”

“But don’t humans not have kings anymore?”

“Only partially true.” Said Chara. “Some countries still have monarchs, and even in those that don’t there are hereditary noble titles whose holders visit us from time to time.”

Toriel clapped her hands together, smiling at Chara. “Yes! And they expect to see us observing our ancient customs and courtesies as well! Now, try your soup again, my child.”

Asriel sighed, thought not loud enough for his mother to hear, and took a proper spoonful of his soup. The crab tasted good, but it had gotten a little lukewarm after all the waiting. This was easily fixed. 

Without touching the bowl, Asriel heated it up with a little bit of fire magic. The moment steam rose from the bowl, Chara brought the bat to his back again. Asriel jumped in his seat and bleated. In his surprise, he lost control of his fire magic and flash-boiled his soup in an instant. 

“How many times must I tell you.” Chided Toriel. “No fire magic at a formal dinner.”

“B-But it was getting cold…” Whined Asriel.

“Then you should have eaten it quicker. Isn’t that right, Gori?”

Asgore took another loud sip of his tea. “Oh yes, Tori, quite right.”

Frisk clasped her hands together and smiled sympathetically. “Think of it this way, Azzy, you’re doing better than last time! At this rate you’ll have it all down in… um... .” She tapped at her chin. “Probably a month?”

Asriel sighed and shook his head. “Thanks, Frisk.”

He moved on to the main course. Trial and error had made it easy to determine what silverware to use, and he got to eat his meatloaf and potatoes in peace. Without thinking he reached for his drink — a wine glass filled with grape juice — but stopped himself just before he touched it. Chara’s bat arm was already tense, and Toriel’s glare was fixed on his hand. Both were waiting for him to forget one of the many rules on drinks, but Asriel was certain he’d memorized this part. 

Two of his fingers made a circle around the spot where the bowl of the glass made the stem. Asriel cautiously lifted the glass to his lips while keeping his other two fingers extended. He brought the glass to his lips, took a quiet sip, and—

Was promptly smacked on the top of the snout by Chara’s bat. He sputtered and spewed his mouthful of juice right down his chest, staining his fur. 

“Awww, come on!” He growled. “That stuff’s awful to wash out…”

Asgore took a long, loud sip of his tea and sighed. “Slurp your drink, Asriel. It’s only polite.”

“Welp,” Chara said with a widening smile. “Guess your dessert’s mine now, Azzy. One strike too many.”

Asriel scowled as Chara reached over and took his pie. He crossed his arms, doing his best to look hurt and indignant. It was for naught. Chara ignored his silent protests and tucked into the pie with gusto. 

“Golly, Chara, why don’t you have to do all this nonsense?” Asked Asriel. “If I tried that you’d have hit me again!” 

Chara swallowed a large bite. “Because, silly. I’m not the heir apparent. Apparently.”

Asriel grimaced and went back to sulking in silence. The more lessons he took, the more being king sounded absolutely terrible. He wished he could have adventures like Undyne and Gerson, or just be normal. That would be nice too.


End file.
